A Trip to Scarborough; and, The Critic - Part 12
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Part 12

_Sneer_. Pray, Dangle--Sir Fretful seems a little anxious-- _Sir Fret_. O Lud, no!--anxious!--not I--not the least.-- I--but one may as well hear, you know.

_Dang_. Sneer, do you recollect?--[_Aside to_ SNEER.]

Make out something.

_Sneer_. [_Aside to_ DANGLE.] I will.--[_Aloud_.]

Yes, yes, I remember perfectly.

_Sir Fret_. Well, and pray now--not that it signifies--what might the gentleman say?

_Sneer_. Why, he roundly a.s.serts that you have not the slightest invention or original genius whatever; though you are the greatest traducer of all other authors living.

_Sir Fret_. Ha! ha! ha!--very good!

_Sneer_. That as to comedy, you have not one idea of your own, he believes, even in your commonplace-book--where stray jokes and pilfered witticisms are kept with as much method as the ledger of the lost and stolen office.

_Sir Fret_. Ha! ha! ha!--very pleasant!

_Sneer_. Nay, that you are so unlucky as not to have the skill even to steal with taste:--but that you glean from the refuse of obscure volumes, where more judicious plagiarists have been before you; so that the body of your work is a composition of dregs and sentiments--like a bad tavern's worst wine.

_Sir Fret_. Ha! ha!

_Sneer_. In your more serious efforts, he says, your bombast would be less intolerable, if the thoughts were ever suited to the expression; but the homeliness of the sentiment stares through the fantastic enc.u.mbrance of its fine language, like a clown in one of the new uniforms!

_Sir Fret_. Ha! ha!

_Sneer_. That your occasional tropes and flowers suit the general coa.r.s.eness of your style, as tambour sprigs would a ground of linsey-woolsey; while your imitations of Shakspeare resemble the mimicry of Falstaff's page, and are about as near the standard as the original.

_Sir Fret_. Ha!

_Sneer_. In short, that even the finest pa.s.sages you steal are of no service to you; for the poverty of your own language prevents their a.s.similating; so that they lie on the surface like lumps of marl on a barren moor, enc.u.mbering what it is not in their power to fertilize!

_Sir Fret_. [_After great agitation_.] Now, another person would be vexed at this!

_Sneer_. Oh! but I wouldn't have told you--only to divert you.

_Sir Fret_. I know it--I am diverted.--Ha! ha! ha!--not the least invention!--Ha! ha! ha!--very good!--very good!

_Sneer_. Yes--no genius! ha! ha! ha!

_Dang_. A severe rogue! ha! ha! ha! But you are quite right, Sir Fretful, never to read such nonsense.

_Sir Fret_. To be sure--for if there is anything to one's praise, it is a foolish vanity to be gratified at it; and, if it is abuse--why one is always sure to hear of it from one d.a.m.ned good-natured friend or other!

_Enter_ SERVANT.

_Ser_. Sir, there is an Italian gentleman, with a French interpreter, and three young ladies, and a dozen musicians, who say they are sent by Lady Rondeau and Mrs. Fugue.

_Dang_. Gadso! they come by appointment!--Dear Mrs. Dangle, do let them know I'll see them directly.

_Mrs. Dang_. You know, Mr. Dangle, I shan't understand a word they say.

_Dang_. But you hear there's an interpreter.

_Mrs. Dang_. Well, I'll try to endure their complaisance till you come.

[_Exit_.]

_Ser_. And Mr. Puff, sir, has sent word that the last rehearsal is to be this morning, and that he'll call on you presently.

_Dang_. That's true--I shall certainly be at home.-- [_Exit_ SERVANT.]--now, Sir Fretful, if you have a mind to have justice done you in the way of answer, egad, Mr. Puff's your man.

_Sir Fret_. Psha! sir, why should I wish to have it answered, when I tell you I am pleased at it?

_Dang_. True, I had forgot that. But I hope you are not fretted at what Mr. Sneer-- _Sir Fret_. Zounds! no, Mr. Dangle; don't I tell you these things never fret me in the least?

_Dang_. Nay, I only thought-- _Sir Fret_. And let me tell you, Mr. Dangle, 'tis d.a.m.ned affronting in you to suppose that I am hurt when I tell you I am not.

_Sneer_. But why so warm, Sir Fretful?

_Sir Fret_. Gad's life! Mr. Sneer, you are as absurd as Dangle: how often must I repeat it to you, that nothing can vex me but your supposing it possible for me to mind the d.a.m.ned nonsense you have been repeating to me!--let me tell you, if you continue to believe this, you must mean to insult me, gentlemen-- and, then, your disrespect will affect me no more than the newspaper criticisms--and I shall treat it with exactly the same calm indifference and philosophic contempt--and so your servant.

[_Exit.]

Sneer_. Ha! ha! ha! poor Sir Fretful! Now will he go and vent his philosophy in anonymous abuse of all modern critics and authors.--But, Dangle, you must get your friend Puff to take me to the rehearsal of his tragedy.

_Dang_. I'll answer for't, he'll thank you for desiring it.

But come and help me to judge of this musical family: they are recommended by people of consequence, I a.s.sure you.

_Sneer_. I am at your disposal the whole morning!--but I thought you had been a decided critic in music as well as in literature.

_Dang_. So I am--but I have a bad ear. I'faith, Sneer, though, I am afraid we were a little too severe on Sir Fretful-- though he is my friend.

_Sneer_. Why, 'tis certain, that unnecessarily to mortify the vanity of any writer is a cruelty which mere dulness never can deserve; but where a base and personal malignity usurps the place of literary emulation, the aggressor deserves neither quarter nor pity.

_Dang_. That's true, egad!--though he's my friend!

SCENE II.--_A drawing-room in_ DANGLE'S _House._ MRS. DANGLE, SIGNOR PASTICCIO RITORNELLO, SIGNORE PASTICCIO RITORNELLO, INTERPRETER, _and_ MUSICIANS _discovered_.

_Interp_. Je dis, madame, j'ai l'honneur to introduce et de vous demander votre protection pour le Signor Pasticcio Ritornello et pour sa charmante famille.

_Signor Past_. Ah! vosignoria, not vi preghiamo di favoritevi colla vostra protezione.

_1 Signora Past_. Vosignoria fatevi questi grazie.

_2 Signora Past_. Si, signora.

_Interp_. Madame--me interpret.--C'est a dire--in English-- qu'ils vous prient de leur faire l'honneur-- _Mrs. Dang_. I say again, gentlemen, I don't understand a word you say.

_Signor Past_. Questo signore spieghero-- _Interp_. Oui--me interpret.--Nous avons les lettres de recommendation pour Monsieur Dangle de-- _Mrs. Dang_. Upon my word, sir, I don't understand you.

_Signor Past_. La Contessa Rondeau e nostra padrona.

_3 Signora Past_. Si, padre, et Miladi Fugue.

_Interp_. O!--me interpret.--Madame, ils disent--in English--Qu'ils ont l'honneur d'etre proteges de ces dames.--You understand?

_Mrs. Dang_. No, sir,--no understand!

_Enter_ DANGLE _and_ SNEER.

_Interp_. Ah, voici, Monsieur Dangle!

_All Italians_. Ah! Signor Dangle!

_Mrs. Dang_. Mr. Dangle, here are two very civil gentlemen trying to make themselves understood, and I don't know which is the interpreter.

_Dang_. Eh, bien!

[_The_ INTERPRETER _and_ SIGNOR PASTICCIO _here speak at the same time_.]

_Interp_. Monsieur Dangle, le grand bruit de vos talens pour la critique, et de votre interet avec messieurs les directeurs a tous les theatres-- _Signor Past_. Vosignoria siete si famoso par la vostra conoscenza, e vostra interessa colla le direttore da-- _Dang_. Egad, I think the interpreter is the hardest to be understood of the two!

_Sneer_. Why, I thought, Dangle, you had been an admirable linguist!

_Dang_. So I am, if they would not talk so d.a.m.ned fast.

_Sneer_. Well, I'll explain that--the less time we lose in bearing them the better--for that, I suppose, is what they are brought here for.

[_Speaks to_ SIGNOR PASTICCIO_--they sing trios, &c.,_ DANGLE _beating out of time.]

Enter_ SERVANT _and whispers_ DANGLE.

_Dang_. Show him up.--[_Exit_ SERVANT.] Bravo!

admirable! bravissimo! admirablissimo!--Ah! Sneer! where will you find voices such as these in England?

_Sneer_. Not easily.

_Dang_. But Puff is coming.--Signor and little signoras obligatissimo!--Sposa Signora Danglena--Mrs. Dangle, shall I beg you to offer them some refreshments, and take their address in the next room.

[_Exit_ MRS. DANGLE _with_ SIGNOR PASTICCIO, SIGNORE PASTICCIO, MUSICIANS, _and_ INTERPRETER, _ceremoniously._]

_Re-enter_ SERVANT.

_Ser_. Mr. Puff, sir. [_Exit_.]

_Enter_ PUFF.

_Dang_. My dear Puff!

_Puff_. My dear Dangle, how is it with you?

_Dang_. Mr. Sneer, give me leave to introduce Mr. Puff to you.

_Puff_. Mr. Sneer is this?--Sir, he is a gentleman whom I have long panted for the honour of knowing--a gentleman whose critical talents and transcendent judgment-- _Sneer_. Dear Sir-- _Dang_. Nay, don't be modest, Sneer; my friend Puff only talks to you in the style of his profession.

_Sneer_. His profession.

_Puff_. Yes, sir; I make no secret of the trade I follow: among friends and brother authors, Dangle knows I love to be frank on the subject, and to advertise myself _viva voce_.-- I am, sir, a pract.i.tioner in panegyric, or, to speak more plainly, a professor of the art of puffing, at your service--or anybody else's.

_Sneer_. Sir, you are very obliging!--I believe, Mr. Puff, I have often admired your talents in the daily prints.

_Puff_. Yes, sir, I flatter myself I do as much business in that way as any six of the fraternity in town.--Devilish hard work all the summer, friend Dangle,--never worked harder! But, hark'ee,--the winter managers were a little sore, I believe.

_Dang_. No; I believe they took it all in good part.

_Puff_. Ay! then that must have been affectation in them: for, egad, there were some of the attacks which there was no laughing at!

_Sneer_. Ay, the humorous ones.--But I should think, Mr.

Puff, that authors would in general be able to do this sort of work for themselves.

_Puff_. Why, yes--but in a clumsy way. Besides, we look on that as an encroachment, and so take the opposite side. I dare say, now, you conceive half the very civil paragraphs and advertis.e.m.e.nts you see to be written by the parties concerned, or their friends? No such thing: nine out of ten manufactured by me in the way of business.

_Sneer_. Indeed!

_Puff_. Even the auctioneers now--the auctioneers, I say--though the rogues have lately got some credit for their language--not an article of the merit theirs: take them out of their pulpits, and they are as dull as catalogues!--No, sir; 'twas I first enriched their style--'twas I first taught them to crowd their advertis.e.m.e.nts with panegyrical superlatives, each epithet rising above the other, like the bidders in their own auction rooms! From me they learned to inlay their phraseology with variegated chips of exotic metaphor: by me too their inventive faculties were called forth:--yes, sir, by me they were instructed to clothe ideal walls with gratuitous fruits--to insinuate obsequious rivulets into visionary groves--to teach courteous shrubs to nod their approbation of the grateful soil; or on emergencies to raise upstart oaks, where there never had been an acorn; to create a delightful vicinage without the a.s.sistance of a neighbour; or fix the temple of Hygeia in the fens of Lincolnshire!

_Dang_. I am sure you have done them infinite service; for now, when a gentleman is ruined, he parts with his house with some credit.

_Sneer_. Service! if they had any grat.i.tude, they would erect a statue to him; they would figure him as a presiding Mercury, the G.o.d of traffic and fiction, with a hammer in his hand instead of a caduceus.--But pray, Mr. Puff, what first put you on exercising your talents in this way?

_Puff_. Egad, sir, sheer necessity!--the proper parent of an art so nearly allied to invention. You must know, Mr. Sneer, that from the first time I tried my hand at an advertis.e.m.e.nt, my success was such, that for some time after I led a most extraordinary life indeed!

_Sneer_. How, pray?

_Puff_. Sir, I supported myself two years entirely by my misfortunes.

_Sneer_. By your misfortunes!

_Puff_. Yes, sir, a.s.sisted by long sickness, and other occasional disorders: and a very comfortable living I had of it.

_Sneer_. From sickness and misfortunes! You practised as a doctor and an attorney at once?